A Matter of Trust
by hester4418
Summary: Set near the end of "Caretaker", just after Janeway and Chakotay have agreed to form a united Starfleet crew: Chakotay is slowly settling into his new life aboard Voyager and wonders how far he can really trust Janeway. And she has a surprise for him...


DISCLAIMER: _Star Trek: Voyager _and all its characters belong to Paramount Pictures; no infringement of copyright is intended. The story however belongs to me.

Written December 2012.

**A Matter of Trust  
by Hester (hester4418)**

The newly replicated uniform lay draped over a chair, mocking him. Chakotay never would have thought that he would wear it again, or that Starfleet would_ let_ him wear it again if he ever felt so inclined. But they were a long way from Starfleet now, and a long way from Cardassia Prime as well. Out here, there was no righteous fight to pick for the Maquis.

He paced his new quarters, more floor space than he had been able to call his own in more than three years. Lieutenant Commander Cavit's personal items had been put into storage before the rooms had been reassigned to _Voyager_'s new first officer. The walls and shelves were bare, sterile even, with no hint of personality, and that wasn't about to change anytime soon. All of Chakotay's possessions had been incinerated when the _Val Jean_ had plowed into the Kazon warship.

Most of those losses he could easily accept. There was only one thing that he truly missed, and which not even the replicator would be able to replace: his medicine bundle. He did not use it often, but just knowing it was there, readily available whenever he needed guidance and spiritual support, had sustained him through many a tight spot over the years. Now he would have to start a new one, but it would take a while for any new objects to gain the power he associated with the items he had so carefully selected and preserved over many years.

Chakotay stopped his pacing and sank down onto the couch. He was exhausted. After all the grueling experiences of the last few days, after rescuing first Kes and then Kim and Torres, after breaking his leg and sacrificing his ship, after watching the Caretaker's array go up in flames and listening to the Kazon declaring war on _Voyager_, what had finally worn him out completely had been his one-on-one discussion with Captain Janeway about the future. His future. The Maquis' future. _Voyager_'s future.

There hadn't actually been all that much to discuss. They had both known that – short of abandoning ship and settling on a planet somewhere – the Maquis had no other option but to stay aboard _Voyager_. And the Starfleet crew had sustained so many losses that every pair of helping hands would be invaluable. But even so, Chakotay had been surprised at the apparent ease with which Janeway had made her offer of welcoming all his people into her crew.

He still didn't know how far he could trust her – actually he doubted if he ever would completely. She was Starfleet through and through, and if push came to shove it seemed clear where her loyalties would lie. On the other hand, she appeared to trust him, or at least made an effort to try. And she had defended Tom Paris, of all people, against him, practically coming nose to nose with him on her own bridge after he first beamed aboard. Even then, amidst his own feelings of betrayal toward Tuvok, he had been forced to admit a grudging respect for her audacity, for the way she stood up to him and made him back down almost against his own better judgment. And she had been right about Paris, which had surprised him most of all.

And she _had_ asked for his approval to her plan how to rescue Torres and Kim. It had sounded like an order at first, but just when he had been about to object, if only for the sake of keeping up appearances, she had hesitated, turned to him, and asked if he agreed. And he had swallowed his pride and nodded, for her plan had indeed been sensible.

The door chimed, startling him. He was still getting used to being back aboard a Starfleet vessel, surrounded by all the smells and sounds that he had thought to have left behind for good three years ago.

Chakotay went to trigger the opening mechanism and was surprised to find Janeway standing outside. "Captain?"

"May I come in?"

He shrugged and moved aside. "It's your ship. Feel free."

She all but glared at him. "I hope you didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"Which would be how?" The challenge in his tone was entirely intentional.

"Like you're not feeling welcome here."

"It still takes some getting used to."

They eyed each other warily.

Janeway glanced up and down the corridor, then back at him. Obviously she was still waiting for his permission to enter, which he found oddly reassuring. "Could we please discuss this in private?"

He shrugged again, then motioned her inside with a mocking grand gesture. "Be my guest."

She crossed the threshold somewhat stiffly, keeping her head high and her hands clasped behind her back. At the sound of the door closing she turned. "I just came to see if you're settling in all right."

"Checking up on me already?"

She bristled, not so much at his tone but at the implication behind his words. "Maybe I failed to make this clear before, Commander, but if this alliance is going to work, it will have to be based on trust, mutual trust, between you and me and, by extension, all members of our respective former crews. _Voyager_ may have been sent out to apprehend you, but that is beside the point now. I do not intend to have you or anyone else constantly under watch – not unless you give me reason to."

Chakotay allowed an edge of irony to creep into his voice. "I sure hope you will manage to convey that feeling to your crew. Some of them have been eyeing me rather suspiciously."

Anger flashed across her face. "Damn it, Chakotay, I thought we agreed that it was not going to be 'my crew' and 'your crew'. They have to become _one_ crew, and I'll hold you responsible for overseeing that process."

His eyes narrowed. "Because I'm supposed to keep the Maquis in line?"

"Because you're the first officer now. In case you've forgotten, ensuring good relations among the crew is part of the job description." Janeway's tone was cold. She had known that aligning herself with Chakotay and his followers was a risky affair, but it had seemed like the only logical course of action – they certainly couldn't keep all the renegades in the brig for the next seventy years. She had thought that Chakotay's Starfleet background would ensure a relatively smooth transition, since he would be able to lead by example. But observing his attitude now, she couldn't help but wonder if she had made a huge mistake, and if the decision would come back to haunt her before long.

She thought back to the moment she had first seen him, on the bridge viewscreen. His intense look of distrust, which only deepened when she addressed him by name. But he had agreed to her proposal for a meeting, aboard _Voyager_ even, which showed that he was at least willing to listen to what she had to say. And later he had supported every decision she had made, without voicing so much as a word of protest. Even when it came to the most fateful one of all.

Chakotay defiantly held her gaze for a full minute. Then his posture suddenly faltered. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day. Days actually." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Lieutenant Commander Cavit has been dead barely a week. I feel like I'm walking on his shadow – taking his place on the bridge, moving into his quarters..."

"If we were in Federation space, the turnover would likely have happened just as quickly," Janeway pointed out, but then her voice softened fractionally. "I know it's hard. For everybody. But we don't have the space to indulge in sentimentality and leave these rooms unoccupied for any length of time."

"I know." He was grateful to hear that she at least acknowledged his sentiments. Maybe, just maybe, her display of trusting him was indeed genuine. Only time would tell.

Janeway's eyes briefly strayed to the uniform on the chair, then locked back on his face. Once again he was struck by how short she was. Almost every member of the crew dwarfed her by at least half a head, and yet she had a commanding presence that not only rivaled but surpassed everything he had ever observed in other Starfleet captains, and many admirals even.

When she spoke again, her tone was much softer than before. "I actually had another reason for stopping by. If you have a minute, there's something I'd like to show you."

Chakotay hesitated. He was tired, and all he wanted was to forget about his situation for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. And even if sleep should elude him, Janeway was not the company he would seek out then. But something in her voice aroused his curiosity, so he finally nodded and followed her out the door. "Where are we going?"

As they stepped into a turbolift, she gave him an enigmatic smile. "Cargo Bay 1."

-==/\==-

Just as Chakotay had expected, Cargo Bay 1 was a cavernous space. It spanned several decks and was almost as wide as it was high. When _Voyager_ had departed from Deep Space Nine, the bay had been empty save for a few storage crates at one side of the room. The number of crates had not increased since then, but the available floor space had been neatly compartmentalized and filled: rows upon rows of small mounds of _things_ – clothes, padds, pictures, figurines, artwork, and many more unidentifiable objects which would only be recognized by their respective owners.

Moving slowly through the rows, careful not to step on anything, Chakotay was speechless. He had no trouble finding his own belongings among the three dozen or so piles; his medicine bundle lay atop several items of clothing and he also saw a green stone poking out underneath whose decorative symbols he had carved himself. Confusion plain on his face, he slowly turned back to Janeway who still stood just inside the door.

"I don't know how much is missing," she said, thoughtfully regarding the display. "But under the circumstances I think Ensign Martin did a pretty good job when he snatched as many personal possessions from the _Val Jean_'s crew quarters as he could before you rammed her into the Kazon ship."

Chakotay finally found his voice. "When? How? On whose orders was he was operating?"

"Mine."

His surprise was obvious, as was his skepticism. "You weren't even aboard at the time."

The look she gave him bordered on condescending, but she tempered it with a half smile. "Ensign Kim was very diligent in keeping me informed. I told him to relay the order to the transporter room."

Chakotay nodded cautiously. _Voyager_'s two transporters had worked in tandem to beam out the _Val Jean_ crew during the heat of the battle, and Ensign Martin had been instrumental in rescuing several members of the Maquis. With only seconds left before impact, the ensign had apparently performed this additional task with surprising alacrity and ingenuity, even finding a way to keep the items separate and ordered when he rematerialized them in the cargo bay.

Still slightly stunned, Chakotay let his eyes travel over the display again. As far as he could tell, every member of his Maquis crew should find some personal effects among these items. It would mean a lot to them all – Maquis always traveled light by necessity so they didn't have much to begin with. Many of them hadn't seen home in several years, and oftentimes a picture or small memento of family and loved ones was all they could lay claim to.

"I am indeed grateful for the sentiment. It will mean a lot to my crew to retain some of their possessions." _To have some reminder of their past, even if that past may not be welcome here._

They both understood the subtext his words carried and accepted it wordlessly. Neither was under any delusions that integrating the former Maquis within the Starfleet crew would be an easy process.

"It was the least I could do," Janeway said, and for just a second her eyes clouded over with the guilt she felt about stranding them all in the Delta Quadrant with no quick and easy way back home.

Chakotay caught the fleeting expression but chose not to acknowledge it. He hardly knew her, but for the moment he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Even though she had originally been sent out to capture him, she hadn't tried to double-cross him at any moment, and he agreed that they needed to work together to have a chance of getting back to the Alpha Quadrant.

She fidgeted slightly. "I think I'll leave you to sort through... this. If there's anything else I can do, any help I can give to help you settle in..."

Chakotay nodded, once. "I appreciate the offer."

He had pledged his allegiance to Janeway the moment he had held Torres back with four simple words. _She is the Captain._ He wasn't sure if he _could_ have stopped her from destroying the Caretaker's array, but he could have tried. Yet he hadn't, because deep down he had known that it was the right thing to do. For better or for worse, he would have to live with that decision, stand by it day after day and hope that his instincts had been right in trusting Janeway's judgment.

They stared at each other again for a long moment, as if trying to read the other's thoughts.

Finally Janeway broke the gaze and turned to leave. "Good night, Commander."

The use of his former, and new, rank still sounded strange in his ears, but he supposed he had better get used to it. "Good night, Captain. Pleasant dreams."

She looked back at him. For a split second her composure slipped, and his breath caught at the realization that her dreams would be anything but pleasant. The brave front, the mask of calm and controlled self assurance – they were what sustained her during the day, on duty, on the bridge, in a crisis. The center chair left no room for doubt. But at night, alone, in her quarters, she would reexamine the decisions she made, berate herself for not seeing any alternatives. He had a feeling that she would struggle with destroying the array and stranding _Voyager_ for a long time to come.

Tomorrow he would start thinking about how to make it easier for her, how to make her see that, if given the choice, he would have made the same decision. He would also have to relay that conviction to the rest of the Maquis, especially to B'Elanna Torres. Then they could start the process of blending the crews, working together, making the most of all the resources they had.

Tonight, he was still the Maquis commander, the enemy. From tomorrow onwards, he would endeavor to fill the role of Starfleet first officer to the best of his ability.

She was still standing in the open doorway, studying him. Her captain's mask was back in place, but he knew she had probably seen some of his emotions pass across his face. An hour ago, he might have been bothered by that, perceiving it as a sign of weakness, but now he didn't mind as much. Trust had to go both ways, and they had to start somewhere. And when she nodded briefly and finally left, he thought he saw the ghost of a smile on her face.

-==/ The End \==-


End file.
